Debbie Downer…Judgmental Jims…Disrespectful Dannys…Neverenough Nellies…Insincere Illissas…Dream Killing Keiths…Narcissistic Nancy…Manipulative Mary. These are the buzz words you find online now to describe what is otherwise known as toxic personalities. I am not going to go into a lengthy description of each because well, my readers are very capable of doing that on their own and besides, most of them are self-explanatory. For example, a description of person who is considered a “Narcissistic Nancy” is someone who feels that the world revolves around them. They cannot see outside themselves and make that fact pretty darn well known. The end result is that they leave you feeling pretty drained and wanting to run away screaming…as fast as you can!
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~ Michael Jordan
I have been on and off prednisone at least ten times in the past two and a half years for an autoimmune disorder. Sometimes it has a course of five days but more often than not, the course has run at least four to six weeks; sometimes even months. I have never in my life had the type of love-hate relationship with anyone or anything that I do with this medication. It has helped relieve joint pain that was so severe that I wished I was dead. It has helped me to breathe. It has relieved inflammation in my sinuses and in my stomach, allowing me to eat normally again. It has been my lifesaver.
It has also been my curse. I have been on it enough times now that I am better prepared for what will probably come in terms of side effects; although every time does seem to be a little different depending on the dose and how long I am on it. Until four days ago, I was off it for six whole months; a record for me. However my rheumatologist and I agreed that it was time to go back on it due to the possibility that I have autoimmune induced hearing loss and the need to try and prevent further complications until I am evaluated by an ear specialist. It was also time to try and settle down some other symptoms that just were not getting better on their own.
So, today is day four. Although the insomnia has not been a major issue this time around, the hunger and food cravings were in full force over the weekend. If you’ve never experienced prednisone, you don’t know what you’re missing. You eat a full meal and thirty minutes later you are starving. All you want is sugar, refined carbohydrates, anything bad for you. No exaggeration, I could eat a full meal every two hours and still be hungry. I could sit down for dinner and eat a whole large pizza by myself. And half a loaf of garlic bread. And a plate of brownies. I would still be hungry in two hours after this elaborate feast. Food is all I can think about when I first start prednisone. I made the decision before I took that first pill four days ago that I was just going to do the best I could the first 48-72 hours. If I was hungry, I was going to eat all the calories I was hungry for while trying to keep it somewhat healthy (that kind of worked…a little). Usually after that period, the hunger and cravings settle down. I was going to cut myself some slack and that I did. I got as much exercise as I could as well.
The prednisone wall also makes me jumpy and restless; another issue that usually settles down within 72 hours. The slightest amount of stress can set me off and I feel like I just want to jump out of my skin. It used to get so bad, that I would have to take anti-anxiety medication for it…or drink lots of alcohol…or both. But I can’t do that now. I have worked too hard to get myself healthy to be throwing all that junk in my body! So instead, I am resorting to every self-care and anxiety relieving technique I have ever learned. Surprising result: they work. The trick is to listen to your body, know when you need to step back and rebalance. Then figure out what works. For me, it usually means time alone at home, with low lights, candles going, no TV or excess stimulation at all. I take a hot shower and then surround myself with things I love (and that don’t talk to me!) such as books, magazines, scented lotions, etc. It is about changing the environment.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to share your good and bad prednisone experiences below!
I was driving back from an appointment with my rheumatologist today and these are the thoughts that came to me. After three exhausting hours at the medical center where my doctor is located, I was just beat. I have this autoimmune disease called Sjogren’s Syndrome (well they are pretty sure I do anyways) and just when I think I am winning the race to get better, I get pushed back to the previous mile marker. I guess it could be worse though, I am just grateful that it’s not back to the starting line.
Photo courtesy of Chuck Myers
I sit here on my couch, in my home, freshly showered with clean clothes on. I have my boyfriend sitting next to me working on his computer and my dog resting quietly on her blanket. We have a roof over our heads. There is food in the refrigerator. We have electricity and running water. Except for a sunburn and very irritated eyes, I am comfortable.
That is not so for many families living in communities surrounding mine. Here in the western part of Massachusetts on Wednesday June 1, 2011, several tornadoes ripped through this part of the state leaving a pattern of devastation so rarely, if ever, seen in this little hub of New England. We just don’t get tornadoes of this magnitude in this part of the country. It is something that we hear about happening in Missouri or Kansas. Massachusetts averages two tornadoes a year and to be honest, you usually never hear about them. Most of us have only seen photos on TV of torn off tree tops and flattened homes.
Nothing can really prepare you for the sight of the landscape you see when you approach a part of a town that has seen a tornado tear through it. The trees are gone, or at very least the tops of them. Whole buildings are collapsed. There are wires down on the street every which way you turn. National Guard personnel stand on the street corners and walk down the sidewalks. As we drove through, it seemed to me that the scene might be similar to a war zone as depicted on TV. There are claims adjusters and other official looking people going from site to site. People’s belongings are strewn all over not only their lawns, but on their neighbor’s neighbor’s lawn.
We sorted and we sifted. We made piles. We lifted, hauled, and carried. We gave hugs. We tried to console without letting the victims see our tearful eyes behind our dark sunglasses. Part of me felt like I was privy to the insides of someone’s life as I was sorting through their clothes and other personal belongings. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be so displaced; to have strangers sorting through your belongings and in less than two minutes, to have your entire existence as you know it changed forever. I don’t know personally the people that we helped today, but I knew that I just wanted to turn back the clock for them and freeze May 31, 2011 so that they never had to experience the loss and sorrow associated with June 1, 2011.
Photos: Chuck Myers and Christine Molloy
“You’ve got your body for life, you might as well learn to get along with it.” ~ Sandy Kumskov
In my previous blog entry Turning Forty, I referred to the fact that I am not always physically comfortable in my own skin. As I was writing that sentence, I just knew that I was going to have to blog about it. Body image issues are a topic I can write extensively about and well, I haven’t. I did do an entry back in April about taking responsibility for my health, which was in reference to weight issues, but that has been it.
Truth be told, it has been difficult to consider writing about my relationship with my body until now. There has recently been a shift in my appreciation for the physical appearance of my body. At first I thought it was because I have been taking much better care of myself and it is starting to show. I am seeing muscles that have been buried my whole life. I have lost weight. That being said, I think it is more than that though. I think the bigger shift has been in the way I think about my body.
Except for maybe my hair, I usually don’t have a positive thing to say about the image staring back at me in the mirror. I have too many stretch marks (especially since I have never given birth!); WAY too much fat around my middle; arms are too flabby; too much hair in places that I shouldn’t…the list goes on and on. Why in God’s name do we do this to ourselves? I know that this is not an issue exclusive to me. How many times have we had friends or other people we know criticize their appearance, all the while we are just rolling our eyes because we think they are drop dead gorgeous? Despite the fact that God created this wonderful home for our soul, spirit, or whatever your name for it is, oftentimes all we can see is the imperfections that stare at us from the mirror.
Now though, sometimes I can look in the mirror and actually summon up a positive thought or two. I can think to myself how remarkable it is that my body is still functioning at all after the obscene amount of procedures, toxic medications, and stress it has been through. I look at my eyes and thank them for enduring years of severe dryness; some people actually have eye damage/vision loss from it and I have not. I look at my hands and in them I see the miles they have put on holding the hands of others. I appreciate the heartiness and strength of my feet which for most of my life, have endured much more weight on them then they should have. I look at my chest and I think of the miraculous work my heart has done for me despite it being broken many times, both figuratively and literally. As I give myself a once over every morning (at least once!), I try to remember the times my body has given love and received love.
It’s not an easy thing to look at one’s (im)perfect body and think of it as anything but flawed but like they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For now, I am going to try and behold the beauty that is my wonderful, strong, and courageous body.